Forget You
by yue kato
Summary: Based on YouthGoneWild, a taiwanese manga which is one of my absolute favs. written way back when it was only up to vol 4. AU deathfic.


Forget You 

_yue kato_

020299

            The place still looks the same.  It's so familiar, though now, everything has that dark tint to it.  I'm used to it, though I think there was a time, long ago, when I would never have considered dark glasses an extension of my body.

            I neatly step aside to avoid being bowled over by an over-enthusiastic young girl – probably one of the newest agents – rushing out of the building.  Yes, that's where it's changed.  We used to have to do everything ourselves, from making tea to taking minutes to scheduling appointments.

            It was tough, but we had faith.  Especially her.  She always believed we could do it.  And we did.  Achieved success beyond our wildest dreams.  We're good, good enough that even her beloved J.B. came for one of our concerts.  She was so happy then.  I'll never forget how she looked – the radiance of her face, the sparkle in her eyes, all that vibrance in one small body.

            I remember the day years ago when the two of us were standing in front of one of J.B's mtv's blasting from a row of TV screens.  She was so totally enraptured, then she had turned to me and told me with utter seriousness that she could turn me into a megastar like him.  I had laughed, but somehow I got sucked into that vortex she created, along with the other three, and there was no turning back.  I guess I should be grateful, she was the one who had "discovered" me.  If not for her, I'd still probably be plying odd jobs and scrimping to get by.  Not that I still don't scrimp.  I ain't the kind to forget my roots.

            I take off my shades and tuck them into my jacket, hand raised reflexively to block out the sun's rays.  It's strange to see that radiance and feel the warmth.  I've nearly forgotten how it's like.

            I better decide soon to go in or turn back.  I wonder if I'll be able to face it, face everyone else.  I haven't been back since… that… happened.  God, I can't even think straight about it yet.  Maybe I should wait for a while longer.

            But is that wise?…

            "Wang Xiang!  Is that you?"  The voice is familiar, and I glance around to see Luo Kai hurrying towards me, Vivian close behind.  Well, that's that.  I can't go anywhere else now since they've spotted me.  I raise a hand in greeting and try to smile, but it doesn't come.  The muscles in my face are overstiff from neglect.

            "Thank god you're finally back!" Luo Kai exclaims, grabbing me by my shoulders, then pulling me close for a hug.  Hesitantly, my arms go around him in return.  But I find I can't speak yet.  I shake my head slightly in apology.  If I open my mouth, I'm sure I'll break down.  "It's okay," Vivian whispers soothingly as she embraces me in turn.  "Just take your time.  You can tell us where you've been when you're ready.  Now, let's go in."

            I let the two of them lead me into the air-conditioned office, and patiently bear the uproar my entrance triggers off.  Everyone wants to know where the hell I ran off to, how I am now, if I've gotten over it yet…  They're kind, but I'm sick and tired of hearing all of it.  It won't change anything.  It won't bring her back.  

            Finally, someone orders them to shut up, and I stumble when the same someone drags me into his private room and shuts the door.  Blessed quietness.  I sit down on the couch by the door as Shangguan strides behind his chair and flings himself into it heavily.

            I'm not really surprised he's the one to rescue me.  He probably understands how I feel more than the others, considering he used to have a thing for her too.  The pain suddenly hits me in the gut and remains there, twisting around and making the wound even deeper.  It comes like that.  For a while, I imagine I've finally beaten it, shoved it away, but it'll attack when I least expect it.  And I'm back to square one all over again.

            Absently, I reach into my shirt pocket for the cigarettes and lighter.  In moments I'm feeling the evil fumes slide down my throat, filling my lungs.  Maybe bringing me a step closer to where she is.

            "I never knew you started smoking," Shangguan comments from where he's sitting, half-way through his own cigarette.  "It ain't good for your vocal chords."

            I ignore him and continue staring out the large glass window at my home city.  The city where we had toiled and strove to succeed for so long. The buildings and alleys have always drawn me into their welcoming folds, but now it all looks so strange. Too different.

            I look back at Shangguan – it's not often you get to see that thoughtful expression on his face.  It almost seems like he's worried. 

            "You can't go on like this much longer.  There are obligations you can't escape from, Wang Xiang," he suddenly says after a long silence.  "Life has to go on – for those who still live."

            It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I no longer feel alive but that will probably only earn me a tongue-lashing , perhaps a punch or two, so I keep quiet.

            "Anyway, now that you're back, we might be able to let you lay low for a day or two, but the media will root you out sooner or later," Shangguan continues briskly, the moment of intimacy and concern gone.  "Get yourself prepared to answer their questions, huh?  We'll back up any story you give."

            At least he's sensitive enough not to pry further.  Everyone knows that she died after a car ran into her while crossing the road, but they don't know that it was after a stupid argument she had with me.  I still close my eyes and instantaneously see her flashing eyes then, her voice giving back as good as she got.  Then I see her flying into the air and landing in a bloody heap five metres away from the speeding car that had just slammed into her.  The longest two seconds of my life – as our seven years together sped past me in vivid detail.  After that, everything turned grey.  Dull.

            I stand up to leave but before I reach the door, Shangguan's subdued "I'm sorry," reaches me.  I nod in acknowledgement and go out into the world again.

            Hours later, I stagger half-drunkenly up to the front door of the apartment she and I shared.  I laugh bitterly as I unlock the door with fumbling hands, wishing we had gotten married.  But, no, the obstinate minx insisted on clinging to her 'no associating with the band members' principle.  Still, she had relented enough to agree to live with me.  If I had a few more years…

            After a couple of minutes, I realise the door isn't locked at all.  Strange, there shouldn't be anyone here.  I push open the door and step in.  Light greets me instead of the darkness I expect.

            To my surprise, Zhigao is sitting on the couch, reading something.  At my entrance, his head jerks up and he immediately comes towards me, helping me to where he'd sat.  

            I glance at the table, and take in the pile of photo albums and sketchbooks of newspaper clippings that she had faithfully collected.  It seemed like she bought every magazine, tracked down every newspaper to get a hold of all the articles on the band.  And I loved her – no, _love_ her – for all that she'd done.

            "Why did you take these out?"  I gesture towards the books, a fresh wave of pain crashing over me at the sight of them.

            "Because this is what Yating would have done."  I flinch despite his gentle tone.  "Wang Xiang, please, look… look at them."  He places a sketchbook in my hands and flips through the pages slowly.  He stops at the page with the latest articles – the ones of her accident, followed by those concerning my sudden disappearance.  "Do you want it to end just like that?"

            "I…"  Words fail me, I just don't know what to say.

            "Please, Wang Xiang.  Come back to us… come back to us and live.  Fill this sketchbook with even more clippings about your accomplishments, about the band's accomplishments.  Let our name go down in history as one of the greatest bands there ever was… for her… so that we leave nothing for her to scold us for when we finally get to see her again."

            He sits back, catching his breath after his impassioned speech.  I slowly reach out for a photo album and open it, running my fingers reverently over the pictures.  "These were taken during my first pub performance.  We couldn't believe I actually looked so good."  I turn a few more pages.  "And these were when we launched our first album."  Next page…  "Our first live…"  My vision is too blurry for me to see anymore.  My tears fall, for the first time since that fateful day.  I try to wipe them away, but they fall with ever increasing frequency.  Suddenly I feel Zhigao's arms around me and I let go, releasing the pain and misery I've been suppressing in wracking sobs.

            "I miss her, Zhigao.  I miss her so damn much…  How am I going to go on without her?"  I sang our first song for her, and every song after that.  "Who am I going to sing for now?" I whisper brokenly.

            "You'll still be singing for her, silly.  Just because she's no longer… alive, doesn't mean she's not here in our hearts," Zhigao replies.

            He makes no move to loosen his embrace, and I'm thankful.  I'm not strong enough to face her death in the face right now, but something… something is building itself from the shattered bits of my heart.

            The next morning, I wake up to find myself lying upon a slumbering Zhigao still holding me tight.  A surge of gratitude rushed through me.  As I move to sit up, the motion also wakes him.  He sits up as well, rubbing his eyes.  Standing up and stretching, he asks, "How are you feeling, Wang Xiang?"

            "I'm… better," I answer honestly.  "Thank you."

            "For what?"  He pauses on his way to the bathroom.

            "For staying with me last night.  For reminding me of what I have to do…  For making me come back."

            He smiles.  "That's what friends are for."

            He enters the bathroom and I'm alone in the living room, staring at my reflection in the glass panels of the French doors leading to the balcony.  What he has said strikes me as very true.  I still have friends; friends who love me and will stand by me.  And who are probably just as sad and worried over me as Yating would be if she were still alive – 

            Yating?  I just said her name.  I can say it now.  It still hurts, but it aches in a good way and I feel cleansed, and at peace.

            I walk to the balcony, tossing my shades and cigarettes into the trash bin along the way.  Throwing open the doors, I let the sun's rays enfold me.  I lift up my face and let their brilliance touch me, diffuse through and warm my soul.

            And then, I hear it.

            "What are you doing, Wang Xiang?"  I can hear Zhigao calling me.

            "Zhigao, I want to write a song."

end

  


忘 记 你 by beyond

  


忽 然 发 觉 走 在 台 北 的 街 头

这 里 有 跟 香 港 一 样 的 时 候

我 在 陌 生 的 城 市

要 忘 记 熟 悉 的 你

怕 黑 暗 的 我 走 进 便 利 店 里

还 不 知 道 要 买 什 么 的 东 西

我 在 陌 生 的 城 市

抽 一 根 熟 悉 的 烟

忘 记 你 

美 丽 的 眼 睛    温 柔 的 声 音

我 答 应    忘 记 你 

脆 弱 的 背 影    我 们 的 故 事

我 努 力    忘 记 你 

凌 晨 时 分 打 开 今 天 的 报 纸

可 否 看 到 留 在 背 后 的 故 事

我 在 陌 生 的 城 市

忍 不 住 熟 悉 的 泪

找 不 到 回 饭 店 的 路  我 以 为  已 迷 失

想 不 到 从 橱 窗 看 见   我 自 己

恍 如 隔 世

忘 记 你 

美 丽 的 眼 睛    温 柔 的 声 音

我 答 应    忘 记 你 

脆 弱 的 背 影    我 们 的 故 事

我 努 力    忘 记 你 

忘 记 你… 我 不 能 忘 机 你 


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